A Monday Afternoon

I’m minding my own business standing at a sink or table and then feel your hand slowly slide up my spine, around my neck until your gripping my jaw. You force my head back to make me look into your eyes staring intently until you flick your eyes down to the floor and back at me, with one raised eyebrow. I get the hint and kneel on the floor avoiding your gaze as you step directly in front of me, so closely that you’re just nearly touching me. You undo your belt, your pants and your briefs letting them all drop to the floor. You slowly start to stroke your already hard cock and just watch me waiting to see if I’ll make eye contact with you or to see if I’ll start eagerly lapping you up. I’m too nervous to make the first move and you’re becoming irritated and impatient with me so you grip a handful of hair from the base of my skull, causing me to yelp out in both pain and shock.

The moment my mouth opens you take your other hand to stick two fingers in my mouth and onto my tongue, forcing my jaw open as far as it could go. You tell me to be a good little whore and not to dare move a muscle other than to stick my tongue out as far as it could go. You slide the tip of your cock onto my tongue, teasing it while drops of precum drip down my full bottom lip. Suddenly you thrust your too wide cock forcefully to the back of my throat and grip both sides of my head not letting me move as I frantically try to gasp for air and gag. I feel your nails dig into my nape as you let off two more quick thrusts before letting me manage one short shallow breath before repeating the process two more times. I feel a slight panic from not being able to catch my breath and having each violent thrust knock more out of me, I wonder if I’ll pass out. You finally release your grip and push me over as you rip your cock from my throat.

With bleary, watery eyes and mascara running down my face, I gulp in as much air I can before you pull me by my hair and throw me onto the couch. You pull off my pants and panties, and rip open my button down shirt just leaving me in a tight, delicate pale pink bra. You see that I’m dripping wet and comment that I’m even more desperate than a bitch in heat, but you pay no other attention to me. You roughly position me so that my head is hanging off the arm of the couch and I automatically open my mouth wide, tongue out this time. You tell me to spread my legs and my cunt, to not move a muscle and not dare even think about touching myself. Just to be an open set of holes for you to use or ignore as you see it. You begin to roughly fuck my face, sliding your hands into my bra squeezing and kneading my my tits both for balance and to make me flinch. It’s agony to keep from choking on your cock as it drips down my throat, trying to remember to stay still and spread, desperate for you to let me rub my clit to distract myself. When you’re about to cum you pull out and smirk at my pleading eyes, at the tears staining the cushions beneath me, the messy ring of bright pink lipstick around my mouth, the precum and saliva sliding down my neck pooling onto my collarbones, my tits messily splayed outside of my bra on display. You tell me to open wider and give yourself a few finishing strokes, mumbling that I’m a dumb fucking bitch as you spray cum down my face, neck at tits. You barely give me a second glance once you’re done and head off to shower leaving me to wonder if I’m allowed to clean up or if I’m supposed to stay still until you return.